horace walpole the castle of otranto

8/8/2019 Horace Walpole the Castle of Otranto

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The Castle of OtrantoWalpole, Horace

Published: 1764Categories(s): Fiction, Romance, GothicSource: http://www.gutenberg.org

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Chapter1Manfred, Prince of Otranto, had one son and one daughter: the latter, amost beautiful virgin, aged eighteen, was called Matilda. Conrad, theson, was three years younger, a homely youth, sickly, and of no prom-ising disposition; yet he was the darling of his father, who never showed

any symptoms of affection to Matilda. Manfred had contracted a mar-riage for his son with the Marquis of Vicenzas daughter, Isabella; andshe had already been delivered by her guardians into the hands of Man-fred, that he might celebrate the wedding as soon as Conrads infirmstate of health would permit.

Manfreds impatience for this ceremonial was remarked by his familyand neighbours. The former, indeed, apprehending the severity of theirPrinces disposition, did not dare to utter their surmises on this precipita-tion. Hippolita, his wife, an amiable lady, did sometimes venture to rep-

resent the danger of marrying their only son so early, considering hisgreat youth, and greater infirmities; but she never received any other an-swer than reflections on her own sterility, who had given him but oneheir. His tenants and subjects were less cautious in their discourses. Theyattributed this hasty wedding to the Princes dread of seeing accom-plished an ancient prophecy, which was said to have pronounced thatthe castle and lordship of Otranto should pass from the present family,whenever the real owner should be grown too large to inhabit it. It wasdifficult to make any sense of this prophecy; and still less easy to con-

ceive what it had to do with the marriage in question. Yet these myster-ies, or contradictions, did not make the populace adhere the less to theiropinion.

Young Conrads birthday was fixed for his espousals. The companywas assembled in the chapel of the Castle, and everything ready for be-ginning the divine office, when Conrad himself was missing. Manfred,impatient of the least delay, and who had not observed his son retire,despatched one of his attendants to summon the young Prince. The ser-vant, who had not stayed long enough to have crossed the court to Con-

rads apartment, came running back breathless, in a frantic manner, his

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eyes staring, and foaming at the month. He said nothing, but pointed tothe court.

The company were struck with terror and amazement. The PrincessHippolita, without knowing what was the matter, but anxious for her

son, swooned away. Manfred, less apprehensive than enraged at the pro-crastination of the nuptials, and at the folly of his domestic, asked imper-iously what was the matter? The fellow made no answer, but continuedpointing towards the courtyard; and at last, after repeated questions putto him, cried out, Oh! the helmet! the helmet!

In the meantime, some of the company had run into the court, fromwhence was heard a confused noise of shrieks, horror, and surprise.Manfred, who began to be alarmed at not seeing his son, went himself toget information of what occasioned this strange confusion. Matilda re-

mained endeavouring to assist her mother, and Isabella stayed for thesame purpose, and to avoid showing any impatience for the bridegroom,for whom, in truth, she had conceived little affection.

The first thing that struck Manfreds eyes was a group of his servantsendeavouring to raise something that appeared to him a mountain ofsable plumes. He gazed without believing his sight.

What are ye doing? cried Manfred, wrathfully; where is my son?A volley of voices replied, Oh! my Lord! the Prince! the Prince! the

helmet! the helmet!

Shocked with these lamentable sounds, and dreading he knew notwhat, he advanced hastily, - but what a sight for a fathers eyes! - he be-held his child dashed to pieces, and almost buried under an enormoushelmet, an hundred times more large than any casque ever made for hu-man being, and shaded with a proportionable quantity of black feathers.

The horror of the spectacle, the ignorance of all around how this mis-fortune had happened, and above all, the tremendous phenomenon be-fore him, took away the Princes speech. Yet his silence lasted longerthan even grief could occasion. He fixed his eyes on what he wished invain to believe a vision; and seemed less attentive to his loss, than buriedin meditation on the stupendous object that had occasioned it. Hetouched, he examined the fatal casque; nor could even the bleedingmangled remains of the young Prince divert the eyes of Manfred fromthe portent before him.

All who had known his partial fondness for young Conrad, were asmuch surprised at their Princes insensibility, as thunderstruck them-selves at the miracle of the helmet. They conveyed the disfigured corpseinto the hall, without receiving the least direction from Manfred. As little

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was he attentive to the ladies who remained in the chapel. On the con-trary, without mentioning the unhappy princesses, his wife and daugh-ter, the first sounds that dropped from Manfreds lips were, Take careof the Lady Isabella.

The domestics, without observing the singularity of this direction,were guided by their affection to their mistress, to consider it as peculi-arly addressed to her situation, and flew to her assistance. They con-veyed her to her chamber more dead than alive, and indifferent to all thestrange circumstances she heard, except the death of her son.

Matilda, who doted on her mother, smothered her own grief andamazement, and thought of nothing but assisting and comforting her af-flicted parent. Isabella, who had been treated by Hippolita like a daugh-ter, and who returned that tenderness with equal duty and affection, was

scarce less assiduous about the Princess; at the same time endeavouringto partake and lessen the weight of sorrow which she saw Matilda stroveto suppress, for whom she had conceived the warmest sympathy offriendship. Yet her own situation could not help finding its place in herthoughts. She felt no concern for the death of young Conrad, except com-miseration; and she was not sorry to be delivered from a marriage whichhad promised her little felicity, either from her destined bridegroom, orfrom the severe temper of Manfred, who, though he had distinguishedher by great indulgence, had imprinted her mind with terror, from his

causeless rigour to such amiable princesses as Hippolita and Matilda.While the ladies were conveying the wretched mother to her bed,

Manfred remained in the court, gazing on the ominous casque, and re-gardless of the crowd which the strangeness of the event had now as-sembled around him. The few words he articulated, tended solely to in-quiries, whether any man knew from whence it could have come?Nobody could give him the least information. However, as it seemed to

be the sole object of his curiosity, it soon became so to the rest of thespectators, whose conjectures were as absurd and improbable, as thecatastrophe itself was unprecedented. In the midst of their senselessguesses, a young peasant, whom rumour had drawn thither from aneighbouring village, observed that the miraculous helmet was exactlylike that on the figure in black marble of Alfonso the Good, one of theirformer princes, in the church of St. Nicholas.

Villain! What sayest thou? cried Manfred, starting from his trance ina tempest of rage, and seizing the young man by the collar; how darestthou utter such treason? Thy life shall pay for it.

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The spectators, who as little comprehended the cause of the Princesfury as all the rest they had seen, were at a loss to unravel this new cir-cumstance. The young peasant himself was still more astonished, notconceiving how he had offended the Prince. Yet recollecting himself,

with a mixture of grace and humility, he disengaged himself from Man-freds grip, and then with an obeisance, which discovered more jealousyof innocence than dismay, he asked, with respect, of what he was guilty?Manfred, more enraged at the vigour, however decently exerted, withwhich the young man had shaken off his hold, than appeased by his sub-mission, ordered his attendants to seize him, and, if he had not beenwithheld by his friends whom he had invited to the nuptials, wouldhave poignarded the peasant in their arms.

During this altercation, some of the vulgar spectators had run to the

great church, which stood near the castle, and came back open-mouthed,declaring that the helmet was missing from Alfonsos statue. Manfred, atthis news, grew perfectly frantic; and, as if he sought a subject on whichto vent the tempest within him, he rushed again on the young peasant,crying -

Villain! Monster! Sorcerer! tis thou hast done this! tis thou hast slainmy son!

The mob, who wanted some object within the scope of their capacities,on whom they might discharge their bewildered reasoning, caught the

words from the mouth of their lord, and re-echoed -Ay, ay; tis he, tis he: he has stolen the helmet from good Alfonsos

tomb, and dashed out the brains of our young Prince with it, never re-flecting how enormous the disproportion was between the marble hel-met that had been in the church, and that of steel before their eyes; norhow impossible it was for a youth seemingly not twenty, to wield a pieceof armour of so prodigious a weight

The folly of these ejaculations brought Manfred to himself: yet wheth-er provoked at the peasant having observed the resemblance betweenthe two helmets, and thereby led to the farther discovery of the absenceof that in the church, or wishing to bury any such rumour under so im-pertinent a supposition, he gravely pronounced that the young man wascertainly a necromancer, and that till the Church could take cognisanceof the affair, he would have the Magician, whom they had thus detected,kept prisoner under the helmet itself, which he ordered his attendants toraise, and place the young man under it; declaring he should be keptthere without food, with which his own infernal art might furnish him.

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It was in vain for the youth to represent against this preposterous sen-tence: in vain did Manfreds friends endeavour to divert him from thissavage and ill-grounded resolution. The generality were charmed withtheir lords decision, which, to their apprehensions, carried great appear-

ance of justice, as the Magician was to be punished by the very instru-ment with which he had offended: nor were they struck with the leastcompunction at the probability of the youth being starved, for theyfirmly believed that, by his diabolic skill, he could easily supply himselfwith nutriment.

Manfred thus saw his commands even cheerfully obeyed; and ap-pointing a guard with strict orders to prevent any food being conveyedto the prisoner, he dismissed his friends and attendants, and retired tohis own chamber, after locking the gates of the castle, in which he

suffered none but his domestics to remain.In the meantime, the care and zeal of the young Ladies had brought

the Princess Hippolita to herself, who amidst the transports of her ownsorrow frequently demanded news of her lord, would have dismissedher attendants to watch over him, and at last enjoined Matilda to leaveher, and visit and comfort her father. Matilda, who wanted no affection-ate duty to Manfred, though she trembled at his austerity, obeyed the or-ders of Hippolita, whom she tenderly recommended to Isabella; and in-quiring of the domestics for her father, was informed that he was retired

to his chamber, and had commanded that nobody should have admit-tance to him. Concluding that he was immersed in sorrow for the deathof her brother, and fearing to renew his tears by the sight of his sole re-maining child, she hesitated whether she should break in upon his afflic-tion; yet solicitude for him, backed by the commands of her mother, en-couraged her to venture disobeying the orders he had given; a fault shehad never been guilty of before.

The gentle timidity of her nature made her pause for some minutes athis door. She heard him traverse his chamber backwards, and forwardswith disordered steps; a mood which increased her apprehensions. Shewas, however, just going to beg admittance, when Manfred suddenlyopened the door; and as it was now twilight, concurring with the dis-order of his mind, he did not distinguish the person, but asked angrily,who it was? Matilda replied, trembling -

My dearest father, it is I, your daughter.Manfred, stepping back hastily, cried, Begone! I do not want a daugh-

ter; and flinging back abruptly, clapped the door against the terrifiedMatilda.

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She was too well acquainted with her fathers impetuosity to venture asecond intrusion. When she had a little recovered the shock of so bitter areception, she wiped away her tears to prevent the additional stab thatthe knowledge of it would give to Hippolita, who questioned her in the

most anxious terms on the health of Manfred, and how he bore his loss.Matilda assured her he was well, and supported his misfortune withmanly fortitude.

But will he not let me see him? said Hippolita mournfully; will henot permit me to blend my tears with his, and shed a mothers sorrowsin the bosom of her Lord? Or do you deceive me, Matilda? I know howManfred doted on his son: is not the stroke too heavy for him? has he notsunk under it? You do not answer me - alas! I dread the worst! - Raiseme, my maidens; I will, I will see my Lord. Bear me to him instantly: he

is dearer to me even than my children.Matilda made signs to Isabella to prevent Hippolitas rising; and both

those lovely young women were using their gentle violence to stop andcalm the Princess, when a servant, on the part of Manfred, arrived andtold Isabella that his Lord demanded to speak with her.

With me! cried Isabella.Go, said Hippolita, relieved by a message from her Lord: Manfred

cannot support the sight of his own family. He thinks you less dis-ordered than we are, and dreads the shock of my grief. Console him,

dear Isabella, and tell him I will smother my own anguish rather thanadd to his.

As it was now evening the servant who conducted Isabella bore atorch before her. When they came to Manfred, who was walking impa-tiently about the gallery, he started, and said hastily -

Take away that light, and begone.Then shutting the door impetuously, he flung himself upon a bench

against the wall, and bade Isabella sit by him. She obeyed trembling.I sent for you, Lady, said he - and then stopped under great appear-

ance of confusion.My Lord!Yes, I sent for you on a matter of great moment, resumed he. Dry

your tears, young Lady - you have lost your bridegroom. Yes, cruel fate!and I have lost the hopes of my race! But Conrad was not worthy of your

beauty.How, my Lord! said Isabella; sure you do not suspect me of not

feeling the concern I ought: my duty and affection would have always -

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Think no more of him, interrupted Manfred; he was a sickly, punychild, and Heaven has perhaps taken him away, that I might not trustthe honours of my house on so frail a foundation. The line of Manfredcalls for numerous supports. My foolish fondness for that boy blinded

the eyes of my prudence - but it is better as it is. I hope, in a few years, tohave reason to rejoice at the death of Conrad.

Words cannot paint the astonishment of Isabella. At first she appre-hended that grief had disordered Manfreds understanding. Her nextthought suggested that this strange discourse was designed to ensnareher: she feared that Manfred had perceived her indifference for his son:and in consequence of that idea she replied -

Good my Lord, do not doubt my tenderness: my heart would haveaccompanied my hand. Conrad would have engrossed all my care; and

wherever fate shall dispose of me, I shall always cherish his memory,and regard your Highness and the virtuous Hippolita as my parents.

Curse on Hippolita! cried Manfred. Forget her from this moment,as I do. In short, Lady, you have missed a husband undeserving of yourcharms: they shall now be better disposed of. Instead of a sickly boy, youshall have a husband in the prime of his age, who will know how tovalue your beauties, and who may expect a numerous offspring.

Alas, my Lord! said Isabella, my mind is too sadly engrossed by therecent catastrophe in your family to think of another marriage. If ever

my father returns, and it shall be his pleasure, I shall obey, as I did whenI consented to give my hand to your son: but until his return, permit meto remain under your hospitable roof, and employ the melancholy hoursin assuaging yours, Hippolitas, and the fair Matildas affliction.

I desired you once before, said Manfred angrily, not to name thatwoman: from this hour she must be a stranger to you, as she must be tome. In short, Isabella, since I cannot give you my son, I offer youmyself.

Heavens! cried Isabella, waking from her delusion, what do I hear?You! my Lord! You! My father-in-law! the father of Conrad! the husbandof the virtuous and tender Hippolita!

I tell you, said Manfred imperiously, Hippolita is no longer mywife; I divorce her from this hour. Too long has she cursed me by her un-fruitfulness. My fate depends on having sons, and this night I trust willgive a new date to my hopes.

At those words he seized the cold hand of Isabella, who was half deadwith fright and horror. She shrieked, and started from him, Manfred roseto pursue her, when the moon, which was now up, and gleamed in at the

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opposite casement, presented to his sight the plumes of the fatal helmet,which rose to the height of the windows, waving backwards and for-wards in a tempestuous manner, and accompanied with a hollow andrustling sound. Isabella, who gathered courage from her situation, and

who dreaded nothing so much as Manfreds pursuit of his declaration,cried -

Look, my Lord! see, Heaven itself declares against your impiousintentions!

Heaven nor Hell shall impede my designs, said Manfred, advancingagain to seize the Princess.

At that instant the portrait of his grandfather, which hung over thebench where they had been sitting, uttered a deep sigh, and heaved itsbreast.

Isabella, whose back was turned to the picture, saw not the motion,nor knew whence the sound came, but started, and said -

Hark, my Lord! What sound was that? and at the same time madetowards the door.

Manfred, distracted between the flight of Isabella, who had nowreached the stairs, and yet unable to keep his eyes from the picture,which began to move, had, however, advanced some steps after her, stilllooking backwards on the portrait, when he saw it quit its panel, anddescend on the floor with a grave and melancholy air.

Do I dream? cried Manfred, returning; or are the devils themselvesin league against me? Speak, internal spectre! Or, if thou art my grand-sire, why dost thou too conspire against thy wretched descendant, whotoo dearly pays for - Ere he could finish the sentence, the vision sighedagain, and made a sign to Manfred to follow him.

Lead on! cried Manfred; I will follow thee to the gulf of perdition.The spectre marched sedately, but dejected, to the end of the gallery,

and turned into a chamber on the right hand. Manfred accompanied himat a little distance, full of anxiety and horror, but resolved. As he wouldhave entered the chamber, the door was clapped to with violence by aninvisible hand. The Prince, collecting courage from this delay, wouldhave forcibly burst open the door with his foot, but found that it resistedhis utmost efforts.

Since Hell will not satisfy my curiosity, said Manfred, I will use thehuman means in my power for preserving my race; Isabella shall not es-cape me.

The lady, whose resolution had given way to terror the moment shehad quitted Manfred, continued her flight to the bottom of the principal

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staircase. There she stopped, not knowing whither to direct her steps,nor how to escape from the impetuosity of the Prince. The gates of thecastle, she knew, were locked, and guards placed in the court. Shouldshe, as her heart prompted her, go and prepare Hippolita for the cruel

destiny that awaited her, she did not doubt but Manfred would seek herthere, and that his violence would incite him to double the injury hemeditated, without leaving room for them to avoid the impetuosity ofhis passions. Delay might give him time to reflect on the horrid measureshe had conceived, or produce some circumstance in her favour, if shecould - for that night, at least - avoid his odious purpose. Yet where con-ceal herself? How avoid the pursuit he would infallibly makethroughout the castle?

As these thoughts passed rapidly through her mind, she recollected a

subterraneous passage which led from the vaults of the castle to thechurch of St. Nicholas. Could she reach the altar before she was over-taken, she knew even Manfreds violence would not dare to profane thesacredness of the place; and she determined, if no other means of deliv-erance offered, to shut herself up for ever among the holy virgins whoseconvent was contiguous to the cathedral. In this resolution, she seized alamp that burned at the foot of the staircase, and hurried towards thesecret passage.

The lower part of the castle was hollowed into several intricate

cloisters; and it was not easy for one under so much anxiety to find thedoor that opened into the cavern. An awful silence reigned throughoutthose subterraneous regions, except now and then some blasts of windthat shook the doors she had passed, and which, grating on the rustyhinges, were re-echoed through that long labyrinth of darkness. Everymurmur struck her with new terror; yet more she dreaded to hear thewrathful voice of Manfred urging his domestics to pursue her.

She trod as softly as impatience would give her leave, yet frequentlystopped and listened to hear if she was followed. In one of those mo-ments she thought she heard a sigh. She shuddered, and recoiled a fewpaces. In a moment she thought she heard the step of some person. Her

blood curdled; she concluded it was Manfred. Every suggestion that hor-ror could inspire rushed into her mind. She condemned her rash flight,which had thus exposed her to his rage in a place where her cries werenot likely to draw anybody to her assistance. Yet the sound seemed notto come from behind. If Manfred knew where she was, he must have fol-lowed her. She was still in one of the cloisters, and the steps she hadheard were too distinct to proceed from the way she had come. Cheered

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with this reflection, and hoping to find a friend in whoever was not thePrince, she was going to advance, when a door that stood ajar, at somedistance to the left, was opened gently: but ere her lamp, which she heldup, could discover who opened it, the person retreated precipitately on

seeing the light.Isabella, whom every incident was sufficient to dismay, hesitated

whether she should proceed. Her dread of Manfred soon outweighedevery other terror. The very circumstance of the person avoiding hergave her a sort of courage. It could only be, she thought, some domestic

belonging to the castle. Her gentleness had never raised her an enemy,and conscious innocence made her hope that, unless sent by the Princesorder to seek her, his servants would rather assist than prevent her flight.Fortifying herself with these reflections, and believing by what she could

observe that she was near the mouth of the subterraneous cavern, sheapproached the door that had been opened; but a sudden gust of windthat met her at the door extinguished her lamp, and left her in totaldarkness.

Words cannot paint the horror of the Princesss situation. Alone in sodismal a place, her mind imprinted with all the terrible events of the day,hopeless of escaping, expecting every moment the arrival of Manfred,and far from tranquil on knowing she was within reach of somebody,she knew not whom, who for some cause seemed concealed thereabouts;

all these thoughts crowded on her distracted mind, and she was ready tosink under her apprehensions. She addressed herself to every saint inheaven, and inwardly implored their assistance. For a considerable timeshe remained in an agony of despair.

At last, as softly as was possible, she felt for the door, and havingfound it, entered trembling into the vault from whence she had heard thesigh and steps. It gave her a kind of momentary joy to perceive an imper-fect ray of clouded moonshine gleam from the roof of the vault, whichseemed to be fallen in, and from whence hung a fragment of earth or

building, she could not distinguish which, that appeared to have beencrushed inwards. She advanced eagerly towards this chasm, when shediscerned a human form standing close against the wall.

She shrieked, believing it the ghost of her betrothed Conrad. The fig-ure, advancing, said, in a submissive voice -

Be not alarmed, Lady; I will not injure you.Isabella, a little encouraged by the words and tone of voice of the

stranger, and recollecting that this must be the person who had openedthe door, recovered her spirits enough to reply -

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Sir, whoever you are, take pity on a wretched Princess, standing onthe brink of destruction. Assist me to escape from this fatal castle, or in afew moments I may be made miserable for ever.

Alas! said the stranger, what can I do to assist you? I will die in

your defence; but I am unacquainted with the castle, and want - Oh! said Isabella, hastily interrupting him; help me but to find a

trap-door that must be hereabout, and it is the greatest service you cando me, for I have not a minute to lose.

Saying a these words, she felt about on the pavement, and directed thestranger to search likewise, for a smooth piece of brass enclosed in one ofthe stones.

That, said she, is the lock, which opens with a spring, of which Iknow the secret. If we can find that, I may escape - if not, alas! courteous

stranger, I fear I shall have involved you in my misfortunes: Manfredwill suspect you for the accomplice of my flight, and you will fall a vic-tim to his resentment.

I value not my life, said the stranger, and it will be some comfort tolose it in trying to deliver you from his tyranny.

Generous youth, said Isabella, how shall I ever requite - As she uttered those words, a ray of moonshine, streaming through a

cranny of the ruin above, shone directly on the lock they sought.Oh! transport! said Isabella; here is the trap-door! and, taking out

the key, she touched the spring, which, starting aside, discovered an ironring. Lift up the door, said the Princess.

The stranger obeyed, and beneath appeared some stone steps descend-ing into a vault totally dark.

We must go down here, said Isabella. Follow me; dark and dismalas it is, we cannot miss our way; it leads directly to the church of St.Nicholas. But, perhaps, added the Princess modestly, you have noreason to leave the castle, nor have I farther occasion for your service; ina few minutes I shall be safe from Manfreds rage - only let me know towhom I am so much obliged.

I will never quit you, said the stranger eagerly, until I have placedyou in safety - nor think me, Princess, more generous than I am; thoughyou are my principal care -

The stranger was interrupted by a sudden noise of voices that seemedapproaching, and they soon distinguished these words -

Talk not to me of necromancers; I tell you she must be in the castle; Iwill find her in spite of enchantment.

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Oh, heavens! cried Isabella; it is the voice of Manfred! Make haste,or we are ruined! and shut the trap-door after you.

Saying this, she descended the steps precipitately; and as the strangerhastened to follow her, he let the door slip out of his hands: it fell, and

the spring closed over it. He tried in vain to open it, not having observedIsabellas method of touching the spring; nor had he many moments tomake an essay. The noise of the falling door had been heard by Manfred,who, directed by the sound, hastened thither, attended by his servantswith torches.

It must be Isabella, cried Manfred, before he entered the vault. Sheis escaping by the subterraneous passage, but she cannot have got far.

What was the astonishment of the Prince when, instead of Isabella, thelight of the torches discovered to him the young peasant whom he

thought confined under the fatal helmet!Traitor! said Manfred; how camest thou here? I thought thee in

durance above in the court.I am no traitor, replied the young man boldly, nor am I answerable

for your thoughts.Presumptuous villain! cried Manfred; dost thou provoke my

wrath? Tell me, how hast thou escaped from above? Thou hast corruptedthy guards, and their lives shall answer it.

My poverty, said the peasant calmly, will disculpate them: though

the ministers of a tyrants wrath, to thee they are faithful, and but toowilling to execute the orders which you unjustly imposed upon them.

Art thou so hardy as to dare my vengeance? said the Prince; buttortures shall force the truth from thee. Tell me; I will know thyaccomplices.

There was my accomplice! said the youth, smiling, and pointing tothe roof.

Manfred ordered the torches to be held up, and perceived that one ofthe cheeks of the enchanted casque had forced its way through the pave-ment of the court, as his servants had let it fall over the peasant, and had

broken through into the vault, leaving a gap, through which the peasanthad pressed himself some minutes before he was found by Isabella.

Was that the way by which thou didst descend? said Manfred.It was, said the youth.But what noise was that, said Manfred, which I heard as I entered

the cloister?A door clapped, said the peasant; I heard it as well as you.What door? said Manfred hastily.

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I am not acquainted with your castle, said the peasant; this is thefirst time I ever entered it, and this vault the only part of it within whichI ever was.

But I tell thee, said Manfred (wishing to find out if the youth had

discovered the trap-door), it was this way I heard the noise. My ser-vants heard it too.

My Lord, interrupted one of them officiously, to be sure it was thetrap-door, and he was going to make his escape.

Peace, blockhead! said the Prince angrily; if he was going to escape,how should he come on this side? I will know from his own mouth whatnoise it was I heard. Tell me truly; thy life depends on thy veracity.

My veracity is dearer to me than my life, said the peasant; norwould I purchase the one by forfeiting the other.

Indeed, young philosopher! said Manfred contemptuously; tell me,then, what was the noise I heard?

Ask me what I can answer, said he, and put me to death instantly ifI tell you a lie.

Manfred, growing impatient at the steady valour and indifference ofthe youth, cried -

Well, then, thou man of truth, answer! Was it the fall of the trap-doorthat I heard?

It was, said the youth.

It was! said the Prince; and how didst thou come to know therewas a trap-door here?

I saw the plate of brass by a gleam of moonshine, replied he.But what told thee it was a lock? said Manfred. How didst thou

discover the secret of opening it?Providence, that delivered me from the helmet, was able to direct me

to the spring of a lock, said he.Providence should have gone a little farther, and have placed thee

out of the reach of my resentment, said Manfred. When Providencehad taught thee to open the lock, it abandoned thee for a fool, who didnot know how to make use of its favours. Why didst thou not pursue thepath pointed out for thy escape? Why didst thou shut the trap-door be-fore thou hadst descended the steps?

I might ask you, my Lord, said the peasant, how I, totally unac-quainted with your castle, was to know that those steps led to any out-let? but I scorn to evade your questions. Wherever those steps lead to,perhaps I should have explored the way - I could not be in a worse situ-ation than I was. But the truth is, I let the trap-door fall: your immediate

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arrival followed. I had given the alarm - what imported it to me whetherI was seized a minute sooner or a minute later?

Thou art a resolute villain for thy years, said Manfred; yet on re-flection I suspect thou dost but trifle with me. Thou hast not yet told me

how thou didst open the lock.That I will show you, my Lord, said the peasant; and, taking up a

fragment of stone that had fallen from above, he laid himself on the trap-door, and began to beat on the piece of brass that covered it, meaning togain time for the escape of the Princess. This presence of mind, joined tothe frankness of the youth, staggered Manfred. He even felt a dispositiontowards pardoning one who had been guilty of no crime. Manfred wasnot one of those savage tyrants who wanton in cruelty unprovoked. Thecircumstances of his fortune had given an asperity to his temper, which

was naturally humane; and his virtues were always ready to operate,when his passions did not obscure his reason.

While the Prince was in this suspense, a confused noise of voicesechoed through the distant vaults. As the sound approached, he distin-guished the clamours of some of his domestics, whom he had dispersedthrough the castle in search of Isabella, calling out -

Where is my Lord? where is the Prince?Here I am, said Manfred, as they came nearer; have you found the

Princess?

The first that arrived, replied, Oh, my Lord! I am glad we have foundyou.

Found me! said Manfred; have you found the Princess?We thought we had, my Lord, said the fellow, looking terrified, but

- But, what? cried the Prince; has she escaped?Jaquez and I, my Lord - Yes, I and Diego, interrupted the second, who came up in still great-

er consternation.Speak one of you at a time, said Manfred; I ask you, where is the

Princess?We do not know, said they both together; but we are frightened out

of our wits.So I think, blockheads, said Manfred; what is it has scared you

thus?Oh! my Lord, said Jaquez, Diego has seen such a sight! your High-

ness would not believe our eyes.

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What new absurdity is this? cried Manfred; give me a direct an-swer, or, by Heaven -

Why, my Lord, if it please your Highness to hear me, said the poorfellow, Diego and I -

Yes, I and Jaquez - cried his comrade.Did not I forbid you to speak both at a time? said the Prince: you,

Jaquez, answer; for the other fool seems more distracted than thou art;what is the matter?

My gracious Lord, said Jaquez, if it please your Highness to hearme; Diego and I, according to your Highnesss orders, went to search forthe young Lady; but being comprehensive that we might meet the ghostof my young Lord, your Highnesss son, God rest his soul, as he has notreceived Christian burial -

Sot! cried Manfred in a rage; is it only a ghost, then, that thou hastseen?

Oh! worse! worse! my Lord, cried Diego: I had rather have seen tenwhole ghosts.

Grant me patience! said Manfred; these blockheads distract me.Out of my sight, Diego! and thou, Jaquez, tell me in one word, art thousober? art thou raving? thou wast wont to have some sense: has the othersot frightened himself and thee too? Speak; what is it he fancies he hasseen?

Why, my Lord, replied Jaquez, trembling, I was going to tell yourHighness, that since the calamitous misfortune of my young Lord, Godrest his precious soul! not one of us your Highnesss faithful servants -indeed we are, my Lord, though poor men - I say, not one of us hasdared to set a foot about the castle, but two together: so Diego and I,thinking that my young Lady might be in the great gallery, went upthere to look for her, and tell her your Highness wanted something toimpart to her.

O blundering fools! cried Manfred; and in the meantime, she hasmade her escape, because you were afraid of goblins! - Why, thou knave!she left me in the gallery; I came from thence myself.

For all that, she may be there still for aught I know, said Jaquez; butthe devil shall have me before I seek her there again - poor Diego! I donot believe he will ever recover it.

Recover what? said Manfred; am I never to learn what it is has ter-rified these rascals? - but I lose my time; follow me, slave; I will see if sheis in the gallery.

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For Heavens sake, my dear, good Lord, cried Jaquez, do not go tothe gallery. Satan himself I believe is in the chamber next to the gallery.

Manfred, who hitherto had treated the terror of his servants as an idlepanic, was struck at this new circumstance. He recollected the apparition

of the portrait, and the sudden closing of the door at the end of the gal-lery. His voice faltered, and he asked with disorder -

What is in the great chamber?My Lord, said Jaquez, when Diego and I came into the gallery, he

went first, for he said he had more courage than I. So when we came intothe gallery we found nobody. We looked under every bench and stool;and still we found nobody.

Were all the pictures in their places? said Manfred.Yes, my Lord, answered Jaquez; but we did not think of looking

behind them.Well, well! said Manfred; proceed.When we came to the door of the great chamber, continued Jaquez,

we found it shut.And could not you open it? said Manfred.Oh! yes, my Lord; would to Heaven we had not! replied he - nay, it

was not I neither; it was Diego: he was grown foolhardy, and would goon, though I advised him not - if ever I open a door that is shut again -

Trifle not, said Manfred, shuddering, but tell me what you saw in

the great chamber on opening the door.I! my Lord! said Jaquez; I was behind Diego; but I heard the noise.Jaquez, said Manfred, in a solemn tone of voice; tell me, I adjure

thee by the souls of my ancestors, what was it thou sawest? what was itthou heardest?

It was Diego saw it, my Lord, it was not I, replied Jaquez; I onlyheard the noise. Diego had no sooner opened the door, than he cried out,and ran back. I ran back too, and said, Is it the ghost? The ghost! no,no, said Diego, and his hair stood on end - it is a giant, I believe; he isall clad in armour, for I saw his foot and part of his leg, and they are aslarge as the helmet below in the court. As he said these words, my Lord,we heard a violent motion and the rattling of armour, as if the giant wasrising, for Diego has told me since that he believes the giant was lyingdown, for the foot and leg were stretched at length on the floor. Beforewe could get to the end of the gallery, we heard the door of the greatchamber clap behind us, but we did not dare turn back to see if the giantwas following us - yet, now I think on it, we must have heard him if he

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had pursued us - but for Heavens sake, good my Lord, send for thechaplain, and have the castle exorcised, for, for certain, it is enchanted.

Ay, pray do, my Lord, cried all the servants at once, or we mustleave your Highnesss service.

Peace, dotards! said Manfred, and follow me; I will know what allthis means.

We! my Lord! cried they with one voice; we would not go up to thegallery for your Highnesss revenue. The young peasant, who hadstood silent, now spoke.

Will your Highness, said he, permit me to try this adventure? Mylife is of consequence to nobody; I fear no bad angel, and have offendedno good one.

Your behaviour is above your seeming, said Manfred, viewing him

with surprise and admiration - hereafter I will reward your bravery -but now, continued he with a sigh, I am so circumstanced, that I daretrust no eyes but my own. However, I give you leave to accompany me.

Manfred, when he first followed Isabella from the gallery, had gonedirectly to the apartment of his wife, concluding the Princess had retiredthither. Hippolita, who knew his step, rose with anxious fondness tomeet her Lord, whom she had not seen since the death of their son. Shewould have flown in a transport mixed of joy and grief to his bosom, buthe pushed her rudely off, and said -

Where is Isabella?Isabella! my Lord! said the astonished Hippolita.Yes, Isabella, cried Manfred imperiously; I want Isabella.My Lord, replied Matilda, who perceived how much his behaviour

had shocked her mother, she has not been with us since your Highnesssummoned her to your apartment.

Tell me where she is, said the Prince; I do not want to know whereshe has been.

My good Lord, says Hippolita, your daughter tells you the truth:Isabella left us by your command, and has not returned since; - but, mygood Lord, compose yourself: retire to your rest: this dismal day has dis-ordered you. Isabella shall wait your orders in the morning.

What, then, you know where she is! cried Manfred. Tell me dir-ectly, for I will not lose an instant - and you, woman, speaking to hiswife, order your chaplain to attend me forthwith.

Isabella, said Hippolita calmly, is retired, I suppose, to her cham-ber: she is not accustomed to watch at this late hour. Gracious my Lord,

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continued she, let me know what has disturbed you. Has Isabella offen-ded you?

Trouble me not with questions, said Manfred, but tell me whereshe is.

Matilda shall call her, said the Princess. Sit down, my Lord, and re-sume your wonted fortitude.

What, art thou jealous of Isabella? replied he, that you wish to bepresent at our interview!

Good heavens! my Lord, said Hippolita, what is it your Highnessmeans?

Thou wilt know ere many minutes are passed, said the cruel Prince.Send your chaplain to me, and wait my pleasure here.

At these words he flung out of the room in search of Isabella, leaving

the amazed ladies thunderstruck with his words and frantic deportment,and lost in vain conjectures on what he was meditating.

Manfred was now returning from the vault, attended by the peasantand a few of his servants whom he had obliged to accompany him. Heascended the staircase without stopping till he arrived at the gallery, atthe door of which he met Hippolita and her chaplain. When Diego had

been dismissed by Manfred, he had gone directly to the Princesss apart-ment with the alarm of what he had seen. That excellent Lady, who nomore than Manfred doubted of the reality of the vision, yet affected to

treat it as a delirium of the servant. Willing, however, to save her Lordfrom any additional shock, and prepared by a series of griefs not totremble at any accession to it, she determined to make herself the firstsacrifice, if fate had marked the present hour for their destruction. Dis-missing the reluctant Matilda to her rest, who in vain sued for leave toaccompany her mother, and attended only by her chaplain, Hippolitahad visited the gallery and great chamber; and now with more serenityof soul than she had felt for many hours, she met her Lord, and assuredhim that the vision of the gigantic leg and foot was all a fable; and nodoubt an impression made by fear, and the dark and dismal hour of thenight, on the minds of his servants. She and the chaplain had examinedthe chamber, and found everything in the usual order.

Manfred, though persuaded, like his wife, that the vision had been nowork of fancy, recovered a little from the tempest of mind into which somany strange events had thrown him. Ashamed, too, of his inhumantreatment of a Princess who returned every injury with new marks oftenderness and duty, he felt returning love forcing itself into his eyes;

but not less ashamed of feeling remorse towards one against whom he

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was inwardly meditating a yet more bitter outrage, he curbed the yearn-ings of his heart, and did not dare to lean even towards pity. The nexttransition of his soul was to exquisite villainy.

Presuming on the unshaken submission of Hippolita, he flattered him-

self that she would not only acquiesce with patience to a divorce, butwould obey, if it was his pleasure, in endeavouring to persuade Isabellato give him her hand - but ere he could indulge his horrid hope, he re-flected that Isabella was not to be found. Coming to himself, he gave or-ders that every avenue to the castle should be strictly guarded, andcharged his domestics on pain of their lives to suffer nobody to pass out.The young peasant, to whom he spoke favourably, he ordered to remainin a small chamber on the stairs, in which there was a pallet-bed, and thekey of which he took away himself, telling the youth he would talk with

him in the morning. Then dismissing his attendants, and bestowing asullen kind of half-nod on Hippolita, he retired to his own chamber.

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Chapter2Matilda, who by Hippolitas order had retired to her apartment, was ill-disposed to take any rest. The shocking fate of her brother had deeply af-fected her. She was surprised at not seeing Isabella; but the strangewords which had fallen from her father, and his obscure menace to the

Princess his wife, accompanied by the most furious behaviour, had filledher gentle mind with terror and alarm. She waited anxiously for the re-turn of Bianca, a young damsel that attended her, whom she had sent tolearn what was become of Isabella. Bianca soon appeared, and informedher mistress of what she had gathered from the servants, that Isabellawas nowhere to be found. She related the adventure of the young peas-ant who had been discovered in the vault, though with many simple ad-ditions from the incoherent accounts of the domestics; and she dweltprincipally on the gigantic leg and foot which had been seen in the

gallery-chamber. This last circumstance had terrified Bianca so much,that she was rejoiced when Matilda told her that she would not go torest, but would watch till the Princess should rise.

The young Princess wearied herself in conjectures on the flight of Isa-bella, and on the threats of Manfred to her mother. But what businesscould he have so urgent with the chaplain? said Matilda, Does he in-tend to have my brothers body interred privately in the chapel?

Oh, Madam! said Bianca, now I guess. As you are become his heir-ess, he is impatient to have you married: he has always been raving for

more sons; I warrant he is now impatient for grandsons. As sure as I live,Madam, I shall see you a bride at last. - Good madam, you wont cast offyour faithful Bianca: you wont put Donna Rosara over me now you area great Princess.

My poor Bianca, said Matilda, how fast your thoughts amble! I agreat princess! What hast thou seen in Manfreds behaviour since my

brothers death that bespeaks any increase of tenderness to me? No, Bi-anca; his heart was ever a stranger to me - but he is my father, and I mustnot complain. Nay, if Heaven shuts my fathers heart against me, it over-

pays my little merit in the tenderness of my mother - O that dear mother!

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yes, Bianca, tis there I feel the rugged temper of Manfred. I can supporthis harshness to me with patience; but it wounds my soul when I am wit-ness to his causeless severity towards her.

Oh! Madam, said Bianca, all men use their wives so, when they are

weary of them.And yet you congratulated me but now, said Matilda, when you

fancied my father intended to dispose of me!I would have you a great Lady, replied Bianca, come what will. I

do not wish to see you moped in a convent, as you would be if you hadyour will, and if my Lady, your mother, who knows that a bad husbandis better than no husband at all, did not hinder you. - Bless me! whatnoise is that! St. Nicholas forgive me! I was but in jest.

It is the wind, said Matilda, whistling through the battlements in

the tower above: you have heard it a thousand times.Nay, said Bianca, there was no harm neither in what I said: it is no

sin to talk of matrimony - and so, Madam, as I was saying, if my LordManfred should offer you a handsome young Prince for a bridegroom,you would drop him a curtsey, and tell him you would rather take theveil?

Thank Heaven! I am in no such danger, said Matilda: you knowhow many proposals for me he has rejected -

And you thank him, like a dutiful daughter, do you, Madam? But

come, Madam; suppose, to-morrow morning, he was to send for you tothe great council chamber, and there you should find at his elbow alovely young Prince, with large black eyes, a smooth white forehead, andmanly curling locks like jet; in short, Madam, a young hero resemblingthe picture of the good Alfonso in the gallery, which you sit and gaze atfor hours together -

Do not speak lightly of that picture, interrupted Matilda sighing; Iknow the adoration with which I look at that picture is uncommon - but Iam not in love with a coloured panel. The character of that virtuousPrince, the veneration with which my mother has inspired me for hismemory, the orisons which, I know not why, she has enjoined me topour forth at his tomb, all have concurred to persuade me that somehowor other my destiny is linked with something relating to him.

Lord, Madam! how should that be? said Bianca; I have alwaysheard that your family was in no way related to his: and I am sure I can-not conceive why my Lady, the Princess, sends you in a cold morning ora damp evening to pray at his tomb: he is no saint by the almanack. If

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you must pray, why does she not bid you address yourself to our greatSt. Nicholas? I am sure he is the saint I pray to for a husband.

Perhaps my mind would be less affected, said Matilda, if my moth-er would explain her reasons to me: but it is the mystery she observes,

that inspires me with this - I know not what to call it. As she never actsfrom caprice, I am sure there is some fatal secret at bottom - nay, I knowthere is: in her agony of grief for my brothers death she dropped somewords that intimated as much.

Oh! dear Madam, cried Bianca, what were they?No, said Matilda, if a parent lets fall a word, and wishes it recalled,

it is not for a child to utter it.What! was she sorry for what she had said? asked Bianca; I am

sure, Madam, you may trust me -

With my own little secrets when I have any, I may, said Matilda;but never with my mothers: a child ought to have no ears or eyes butas a parent directs.

Well! to be sure, Madam, you were born to be a saint, said Bianca,and there is no resisting ones vocation: you will end in a convent atlast. But there is my Lady Isabella would not be so reserved to me: shewill let me talk to her of young men: and when a handsome cavalier hascome to the castle, she has owned to me that she wished your brotherConrad resembled him.

Bianca, said the Princess, I do not allow you to mention my frienddisrespectfully. Isabella is of a cheerful disposition, but her soul is pureas virtue itself. She knows your idle babbling humour, and perhaps hasnow and then encouraged it, to divert melancholy, and enliven thesolitude in which my father keeps us -

Blessed Mary! said Bianca, starting, there it is again! Dear Madam,do you hear nothing? this castle is certainly haunted!

Peace! said Matilda, and listen! I did think I heard a voice - but itmust be fancy: your terrors, I suppose, have infected me.

Indeed! indeed! Madam, said Bianca, half-weeping with agony, Iam sure I heard a voice.

Does anybody lie in the chamber beneath? said the Princess.Nobody has dared to lie there, answered Bianca, since the great as-

trologer, that was your brothers tutor, drowned himself. For certain,Madam, his ghost and the young Princes are now met in the chamber

below - for Heavens sake let us fly to your mothers apartment!I charge you not to stir, said Matilda. If they are spirits in pain, we

may ease their sufferings by questioning them. They can mean no hurt to

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us, for we have not injured them - and if they should, shall we be moresafe in one chamber than in another? Reach me my beads; we will say aprayer, and then speak to them.

Oh! dear Lady, I would not speak to a ghost for the world! cried Bi-

anca. As she said those words they heard the casement of the little chamber below Matildas open. They listened attentively, and in a fewminutes thought they heard a person sing, but could not distinguish thewords.

This can be no evil spirit, said the Princess, in a low voice; it is un-doubtedly one of the family - open the window, and we shall know thevoice.

I dare not, indeed, Madam, said Bianca.Thou art a very fool, said Matilda, opening the window gently her-

self. The noise the Princess made was, however, heard by the person be-neath, who stopped; and they concluded had heard the casement open.

Is anybody below? said the Princess; if there is, speak.Yes, said an unknown voice.Who is it? said Matilda.A stranger, replied the voice.What stranger? said she; and how didst thou come there at this un-

usual hour, when all the gates of the castle are locked?I am not here willingly, answered the voice. But pardon me, Lady,

if I have disturbed your rest; I knew not that I was overheard. Sleep hadforsaken me; I left a restless couch, and came to waste the irksome hourswith gazing on the fair approach of morning, impatient to be dismissedfrom this castle.

Thy words and accents, said Matilda, are of melancholy cast; ifthou art unhappy, I pity thee. If poverty afflicts thee, let me know it; Iwill mention thee to the Princess, whose beneficent soul ever melts forthe distressed, and she will relieve thee.

I am indeed unhappy, said the stranger; and I know not whatwealth is. But I do not complain of the lot which Heaven has cast for me;I am young and healthy, and am not ashamed of owing my support tomyself - yet think me not proud, or that I disdain your generous offers. Iwill remember you in my orisons, and will pray for blessings on yourgracious self and your noble mistress - if I sigh, Lady, it is for others, notfor myself.

Now I have it, Madam, said Bianca, whispering the Princess; this iscertainly the young peasant; and, by my conscience, he is in love - Well!

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this is a charming adventure! - do, Madam, let us sift him. He does notknow you, but takes you for one of my Lady Hippolitas women.

Art thou not ashamed, Bianca! said the Princess. What right havewe to pry into the secrets of this young mans heart? He seems virtuous

and frank, and tells us he is unhappy. Are those circumstances that au-thorise us to make a property of him? How are we entitled to hisconfidence?

Lord, Madam! how little you know of love! replied Bianca; why,lovers have no pleasure equal to talking of their mistress.

And would you have me become a peasants confidante? said thePrincess.

Well, then, let me talk to him, said Bianca; though I have the hon-our of being your Highnesss maid of honour, I was not always so great.

Besides, if love levels ranks, it raises them too; I have a respect for anyyoung man in love.

Peace, simpleton! said the Princess. Though he said he was un-happy, it does not follow that he must be in love. Think of all that hashappened to-day, and tell me if there are no misfortunes but what lovecauses. - Stranger, resumed the Princess, if thy misfortunes have not

been occasioned by thy own fault, and are within the compass of thePrincess Hippolitas power to redress, I will take upon me to answer thatshe will be thy protectress. When thou art dismissed from this castle, re-

pair to holy father Jerome, at the convent adjoining to the church of St.Nicholas, and make thy story known to him, as far as thou thinkest meet.He will not fail to inform the Princess, who is the mother of all that wanther assistance. Farewell; it is not seemly for me to hold farther conversewith a man at this unwonted hour.

May the saints guard thee, gracious Lady! replied the peasant; butoh! if a poor and worthless stranger might presume to beg a minutesaudience farther; am I so happy? the casement is not shut; might I ven-ture to ask -

Speak quickly, said Matilda; the morning dawns apace: should thelabourers come into the fields and perceive us - What wouldst thouask?

I know not how, I know not if I dare, said the Young stranger, falter-ing; yet the humanity with which you have spoken to me emboldens -Lady! dare I trust you?

Heavens! said Matilda, what dost thou mean? With what wouldstthou trust me? Speak boldly, if thy secret is fit to be entrusted to a virtu-ous breast.

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I would ask, said the peasant, recollecting himself, whether what Ihave heard from the domestics is true, that the Princess is missing fromthe castle?

What imports it to thee to know? replied Matilda. Thy first words

bespoke a prudent and becoming gravity. Dost thou come hither to pryinto the secrets of Manfred? Adieu. I have been mistaken in thee. Sayingthese words she shut the casement hastily, without giving the youngman time to reply.

I had acted more wisely, said the Princess to Bianca, with somesharpness, if I had let thee converse with this peasant; his inquisitive-ness seems of a piece with thy own.

It is not fit for me to argue with your Highness, replied Bianca; butperhaps the questions I should have put to him would have been more

to the purpose than those you have been pleased to ask him.Oh! no doubt, said Matilda; you are a very discreet personage! May

I know what you would have asked him?A bystander often sees more of the game than those that play,

answered Bianca. Does your Highness think, Madam, that this questionabout my Lady Isabella was the result of mere curiosity? No, no,Madam, there is more in it than you great folks are aware of. Lopez toldme that all the servants believe this young fellow contrived my Lady Isa-

bellas escape; now, pray, Madam, observe you and I both know that my

Lady Isabella never much fancied the Prince your brother. Well! he iskilled just in a critical minute - I accuse nobody. A helmet falls from themoon - so, my Lord, your father says; but Lopez and all the servants saythat this young spark is a magician, and stole it from Alfonsos tomb -

Have done with this rhapsody of impertinence, said Matilda.Nay, Madam, as you please, cried Bianca; yet it is very particular

though, that my Lady Isabella should be missing the very same day, andthat this young sorcerer should be found at the mouth of the trap-door. Iaccuse nobody; but if my young Lord came honestly by his death -

Dare not on thy duty, said Matilda, to breathe a suspicion on thepurity of my dear Isabellas fame.

Purity, or not purity, said Bianca, gone she is - a stranger is foundthat nobody knows; you question him yourself; he tells you he is in love,or unhappy, it is the same thing - nay, he owned he was unhappy aboutothers; and is anybody unhappy about another, unless they are in lovewith them? and at the very next word, he asks innocently, pour soul! ifmy Lady Isabella is missing.

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To be sure, said Matilda, thy observations are not totally withoutfoundation - Isabellas flight amazes me. The curiosity of the stranger isvery particular; yet Isabella never concealed a thought from me.

So she told you, said Bianca, to fish out your secrets; but who

knows, Madam, but this stranger may be some Prince in disguise? Do,Madam, let me open the window, and ask him a few questions.

No, replied Matilda, I will ask him myself, if he knows aught ofIsabella; he is not worthy I should converse farther with him. She wasgoing to open the casement, when they heard the bell ring at the postern-gate of the castle, which is on the right hand of the tower, where Matildalay. This prevented the Princess from renewing the conversation with thestranger.

After continuing silent for some time, I am persuaded, said she to

Bianca, that whatever be the cause of Isabellas flight it had no un-worthy motive. If this stranger was accessory to it, she must be satisfiedwith his fidelity and worth. I observed, did not you, Bianca? that hiswords were tinctured with an uncommon infusion of piety. It was noruffians speech; his phrases were becoming a man of gentle birth.

I told you, Madam, said Bianca, that I was sure he was some Princein disguise.

Yet, said Matilda, if he was privy to her escape, how will you ac-count for his not accompanying her in her flight? why expose himself

unnecessarily and rashly to my fathers resentment?As for that, Madam, replied she, if he could get from under the hel-

met, he will find ways of eluding your fathers anger. I do not doubt buthe has some talisman or other about him.

You resolve everything into magic, said Matilda; but a man whohas any intercourse with infernal spirits, does not dare to make use ofthose tremendous and holy words which he uttered. Didst thou not ob-serve with what fervour he vowed to remember me to heaven in hisprayers? Yes; Isabella was undoubtedly convinced of his piety.

Commend me to the piety of a young fellow and a damsel that con-sult to elope! said Bianca. No, no, Madam, my Lady Isabella is of an-other guess mould than you take her for. She used indeed to sigh and liftup her eyes in your company, because she knows you are a saint; butwhen your back was turned -

You wrong her, said Matilda; Isabella is no hypocrite; she has a duesense of devotion, but never affected a call she has not. On the contrary,she always combated my inclination for the cloister; and though I ownthe mystery she has made to me of her flight confounds me; though it

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seems inconsistent with the friendship between us; I cannot forget thedisinterested warmth with which she always opposed my taking theveil. She wished to see me married, though my dower would have beena loss to her and my brothers children. For her sake I will believe well of

this young peasant.Then you do think there is some liking between them, said Bianca.

While she was speaking, a servant came hastily into the chamber andtold the Princess that the Lady Isabella was found.

Where? said Matilda.She has taken sanctuary in St. Nicholass church, replied the servant;

Father Jerome has brought the news himself; he is below with hisHighness.

Where is my mother? said Matilda.

She is in her own chamber, Madam, and has asked for you.Manfred had risen at the first dawn of light, and gone to Hippolitas

apartment, to inquire if she knew aught of Isabella. While he was ques-tioning her, word was brought that Jerome demanded to speak withhim. Manfred, little suspecting the cause of the Friars arrival, and know-ing he was employed by Hippolita in her charities, ordered him to be ad-mitted, intending to leave them together, while he pursued his searchafter Isabella.

Is your business with me or the Princess? said Manfred.

With both, replied the holy man. The Lady Isabella - What of her? interrupted Manfred, eagerly.Is at St. Nicholass altar, replied Jerome.That is no business of Hippolita, said Manfred with confusion; let

us retire to my chamber, Father, and inform me how she came thither.No, my Lord, replied the good man, with an air of firmness and au-

thority, that daunted even the resolute Manfred, who could not helprevering the saint-like virtues of Jerome; my commission is to both, andwith your Highnesss good-liking, in the presence of both I shall deliverit; but first, my Lord, I must interrogate the Princess, whether she is ac-quainted with the cause of the Lady Isabellas retirement from yourcastle.

No, on my soul, said Hippolita; does Isabella charge me with beingprivy to it?

Father, interrupted Manfred, I pay due reverence to your holy pro-fession; but I am sovereign here, and will allow no meddling priest to in-terfere in the affairs of my domestic. If you have aught to say attend me

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to my chamber; I do not use to let my wife be acquainted with the secretaffairs of my state; they are not within a womans province.

My Lord, said the holy man, I am no intruder into the secrets offamilies. My office is to promote peace, to heal divisions, to preach re-

pentance, and teach mankind to curb their headstrong passions. I forgiveyour Highnesss uncharitable apostrophe; I know my duty, and am theminister of a mightier prince than Manfred. Hearken to him who speaksthrough my organs.

Manfred trembled with rage and shame. Hippolitas countenance de-clared her astonishment and impatience to know where this would end.Her silence more strongly spoke her observance of Manfred.

The Lady Isabella, resumed Jerome, commends herself to both yourHighnesses; she thanks both for the kindness with which she has been

treated in your castle: she deplores the loss of your son, and her ownmisfortune in not becoming the daughter of such wise and noble Princes,whom she shall always respect as Parents; she prays for uninterruptedunion and felicity between you [Manfreds colour changed]: but as it isno longer possible for her to be allied to you, she entreats your consent toremain in sanctuary, till she can learn news of her father, or, by the cer-tainty of his death, be at liberty, with the approbation of her guardians,to dispose of herself in suitable marriage.

I shall give no such consent, said the Prince, but insist on her return

to the castle without delay: I am answerable for her person to her guardi-ans, and will not brook her being in any hands but my own.

Your Highness will recollect whether that can any longer be proper,replied the Friar.

I want no monitor, said Manfred, colouring; Isabellas conductleaves room for strange suspicions - and that young villain, who was atleast the accomplice of her flight, if not the cause of it -

The cause! interrupted Jerome; was a young man the cause?This is not to be borne! cried Manfred. Am I to be bearded in my

own palace by an insolent Monk? Thou art privy, I guess, to theiramours.

I would pray to heaven to clear up your uncharitable surmises, saidJerome, if your Highness were not satisfied in your conscience how un-justly you accuse me. I do pray to heaven to pardon that uncharitable-ness: and I implore your Highness to leave the Princess at peace in thatholy place, where she is not liable to be disturbed by such vain andworldly fantasies as discourses of love from any man.

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Cant not to me, said Manfred, but return and bring the Princess toher duty.

It is my duty to prevent her return hither, said Jerome. She is whereorphans and virgins are safest from the snares and wiles of this world;

and nothing but a parents authority shall take her thence.I am her parent, cried Manfred, and demand her.She wished to have you for her parent, said the Friar; but Heaven

that forbad that connection has for ever dissolved all ties betwixt you:and I announce to your Highness -

Stop! audacious man, said Manfred, and dread my displeasure.Holy farther, said Hippolita, it is your office to be no respecter of

persons: you must speak as your duty prescribes: but it is my duty tohear nothing that it pleases not my Lord I should hear. Attend the Prince

to his chamber. I will retire to my oratory, and pray to the blessed Virginto inspire you with her holy counsels, and to restore the heart of my gra-cious Lord to its wonted peace and gentleness.

Excellent woman! said the Friar. My Lord, I attend your pleasure.Manfred, accompanied by the Friar, passed to his own apartment,

where shutting the door, I perceive, Father, said he, that Isabella hasacquainted you with my purpose. Now hear my resolve, and obey.Reasons of state, most urgent reasons, my own and the safety of mypeople, demand that I should have a son. It is in vain to expect an heir

from Hippolita. I have made choice of Isabella. You must bring her back;and you must do more. I know the influence you have with Hippolita:her conscience is in your hands. She is, I allow, a faultless woman: hersoul is set on heaven, and scorns the little grandeur of this world: youcan withdraw her from it entirely. Persuade her to consent to the dissolu-tion of our marriage, and to retire into a monastery - she shall endow oneif she will; and she shall have the means of being as liberal to your orderas she or you can wish. Thus you will divert the calamities that arehanging over our heads, and have the merit of saying the principality ofOtranto from destruction. You are a prudent man, and though thewarmth of my temper betrayed me into some unbecoming expressions, Ihonour your virtue, and wish to be indebted to you for the repose of mylife and the preservation of my family.

The will of heaven be done! said the Friar. I am but its worthless in-strument. It makes use of my tongue to tell thee, Prince, of thy unwar-rantable designs. The injuries of the virtuous Hippolita have mounted tothe throne of pity. By me thou art reprimanded for thy adulterous inten-tion of repudiating her: by me thou art warned not to pursue the

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incestuous design on thy contracted daughter. Heaven that delivered herfrom thy fury, when the judgments so recently fallen on thy house oughtto have inspired thee with other thoughts, will continue to watch overher. Even I, a poor and despised Friar, am able to protect her from thy vi-

olence - I, sinner as I am, and uncharitably reviled by your Highness asan accomplice of I know not what amours, scorn the allurements withwhich it has pleased thee to tempt mine honesty. I love my order; I hon-our devout souls; I respect the piety of thy Princess - but I will not betraythe confidence she reposes in me, nor serve even the cause of religion byfoul and sinful compliances - but forsooth! the welfare of the state de-pends on your Highness having a son! Heaven mocks the short-sightedviews of man. But yester-morn, whose house was so great, so flourishingas Manfreds? - where is young Conrad now? - My Lord, I respect your

tears - but I mean not to check them - let them flow, Prince! They willweigh more with heaven toward the welfare of thy subjects, than a mar-riage, which, founded on lust or policy, could never prosper. Thesceptre, which passed from the race of Alfonso to thine, cannot be pre-served by a match which the church will never allow. If it is the will ofthe Most High that Manfreds name must perish, resign yourself, myLord, to its decrees; and thus deserve a crown that can never pass away.Come, my Lord; I like this sorrow - let us return to the Princess: she isnot apprised of your cruel intentions; nor did I mean more than to alarm

you. You saw with what gentle patience, with what efforts of love, sheheard, she rejected hearing, the extent of your guilt. I know she longs tofold you in her arms, and assure you of her unalterable affection.

Father, said the Prince, you mistake my compunction: true, I hon-our Hippolitas virtues; I think her a Saint; and wish it were for my soulshealth to tie faster the knot that has united us - but alas! Father, youknow not the bitterest of my pangs! it is some time that I have hadscruples on the legality of our union: Hippolita is related to me in thefourth degree - it is true, we had a dispensation: but I have been in-formed that she had also been contracted to another. This it is that sitsheavy at my heart: to this state of unlawful wedlock I impute the visita-tion that has fallen on me in the death of Conrad! - ease my conscience ofthis burden: dissolve our marriage, and accomplish the work of godli-ness - which your divine exhortations have commenced in my soul.

How cutting was the anguish which the good man felt, when he per-ceived this turn in the wily Prince! He trembled for Hippolita, whose ru-in he saw was determined; and he feared if Manfred had no hope of re-covering Isabella, that his impatience for a son would direct him to some

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other object, who might not be equally proof against the temptation ofManfreds rank. For some time the holy man remained absorbed inthought. At length, conceiving some hopes from delay, he thought thewisest conduct would be to prevent the Prince from despairing of recov-

ering Isabella. Her the Friar knew he could dispose, from her affection toHippolita, and from the aversion she had expressed to him for Manfredsaddresses, to second his views, till the censures of the church could befulminated against a divorce. With this intention, as if struck with thePrinces scruples, he at length said:

My Lord, I have been pondering on what your Highness has said;and if in truth it is delicacy of conscience that is the real motive of yourrepugnance to your virtuous Lady, far be it from me to endeavour toharden your heart. The church is an indulgent mother: unfold your griefs

to her: she alone can administer comfort to your soul, either by satisfyingyour conscience, or upon examination of your scruples, by setting you atliberty, and indulging you in the lawful means of continuing your lin-eage. In the latter case, if the Lady Isabella can be brought to consent -

Manfred, who concluded that he had either over-reached the goodman, or that his first warmth had been but a tribute paid to appearance,was overjoyed at this sudden turn, and repeated the most magnificentpromises, if he should succeed by the Friars mediation. The well-mean-ing priest suffered him to deceive himself, fully determined to traverse

his views, instead of seconding them.Since we now understand one another, resumed the Prince, I ex-

pect, Father, that you satisfy me in one point. Who is the youth that Ifound in the vault? He must have been privy to Isabellas flight: tell metruly, is he her lover? or is he an agent for anothers passion? I have oftensuspected Isabellas indifference to my son: a thousand circumstancescrowd on my mind that confirm that suspicion. She herself was so con-scious of it, that while I discoursed her in the gallery, she outran my sus-picious, and endeavoured to justify herself from coolness to Conrad.

The Friar, who knew nothing of the youth, but what he had learnt oc-casionally from the Princess, ignorant what was become of him, and notsufficiently reflecting on the impetuosity of Manfreds temper, conceivedthat it might not be amiss to sow the seeds of jealousy in his mind: theymight be turned to some use hereafter, either by prejudicing the Princeagainst Isabella, if he persisted in that union or by diverting his attentionto a wrong scent, and employing his thoughts on a visionary intrigue,prevent his engaging in any new pursuit. With this unhappy policy, heanswered in a manner to confirm Manfred in the belief of some

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connection between Isabella and the youth. The Prince, whose passionswanted little fuel to throw them into a blaze, fell into a rage at the idea ofwhat the Friar suggested.

I will fathom to the bottom of this intrigue, cried he; and quitting

Jerome abruptly, with a command to remain there till his return, hehastened to the great hall of the castle, and ordered the peasant to be

brought before him.Thou hardened young impostor! said the Prince, as soon as he saw

the youth; what becomes of thy boasted veracity now? it was Provid-ence, was it, and the light of the moon, that discovered the lock of thetrap-door to thee? Tell me, audacious boy, who thou art, and how longthou hast been acquainted with the Princess - and take care to answerwith less equivocation than thou didst last night, or tortures shall wring

the truth from thee.The young man, perceiving that his share in the flight of the Princess

was discovered, and concluding that anything he should say could nolonger be of any service or detriment to her, replied -

I am no impostor, my Lord, nor have I deserved opprobrious lan-guage. I answered to every question your Highness put to me last nightwith the same veracity that I shall speak now: and that will not be fromfear of your tortures, but because my soul abhors a falsehood. Please torepeat your questions, my Lord; I am ready to give you all the satisfac-

tion in my power.You know my questions, replied the Prince, and only want time to

prepare an evasion. Speak directly; who art thou? and how long hastthou been known to the Princess?

I am a labourer at the next village, said the peasant; my name isTheodore. The Princess found me in the vault last night: before that hourI never was in her presence.

I may believe as much or as little as I please of this, said Manfred;but I will hear thy own story before I examine into the truth of it. Tellme, what reason did the Princess give thee for making her escape? thylife depends on thy answer.

She told me, replied Theodore, that she was on the brink of de-struction, and that if she could not escape from the castle, she was indanger in a few moments of being made miserable for ever.

And on this slight foundation, on a silly girls report, said Manfred,thou didst hazard my displeasure?

I fear no mans displeasure, said Theodore, when a woman in dis-tress puts herself under my protection.

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During this examination, Matilda was going to the apartment of Hip-polita. At the upper end of the hall, where Manfred sat, was a boardedgallery with latticed windows, through which Matilda and Bianca wereto pass. Hearing her fathers voice, and seeing the servants assembled

round him, she stopped to learn the occasion. The prisoner soon drewher attention: the steady and composed manner in which he answered,and the gallantry of his last reply, which were the first words she hearddistinctly, interested her in his flavour. His person was noble, handsome,and commanding, even in that situation: but his countenance soon en-grossed her whole care.

Heavens! Bianca, said the Princess softly, do I dream? or is not thatyouth the exact resemblance of Alfonsos picture in the gallery?

She could say no more, for her fathers voice grew louder at every

word.This bravado, said he, surpasses all thy former insolence. Thou

shalt experience the wrath with which thou darest to trifle. Seize him,continued Manfred, and bind him - the first news the Princess hears ofher champion shall be, that he has lost his head for her sake.

The injustice of which thou art guilty towards me, said Theodore,convinces me that I have done a good deed in delivering the Princessfrom thy tyranny. May she be happy, whatever becomes of me!

This is a lover! cried Manfred in a rage: a peasant within sight of

death is not animated by such sentiments. Tell me, tell me, rash boy, whothou art, or the rack shall force thy secret from thee.

Thou hast threatened me with death already, said the youth, forthe truth I have told thee: if that is all the encouragement I am to expectfor sincerity, I am not tempted to indulge thy vain curiosity farther.

Then thou wilt not speak? said Manfred.I will not, replied he.Bear him away into the courtyard, said Manfred; I will see his head

this instant severed from his body.Matilda fainted at hearing those words. Bianca shrieked, and cried -Help! help! the Princess is dead! Manfred started at this ejaculation,

and demanded what was the matter! The young peasant, who heard ittoo, was struck with horror, and asked eagerly the same question; butManfred ordered him to be hurried into the court, and kept there for exe-cution, till he had informed himself of the cause of Biancas shrieks.When he learned the meaning, he treated it as a womanish panic, and or-dering Matilda to be carried to her apartment, he rushed into the court,

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and calling for one of his guards, bade Theodore kneel down, and pre-pare to receive the fatal blow.

The undaunted youth received the bitter sentence with a resignationthat touched every heart but Manfreds. He wished earnestly to know

the meaning of the words he had heard relating to the Princess; but fear-ing to exasperate the tyrant more against her, he desisted. The only boonhe deigned to ask was, that he might be permitted to have a confessor,and make his peace with heaven. Manfred, who hoped by the confessorsmeans to come at the youths history, readily granted his request; and

being convinced that Father Jerome was now in his interest, he orderedhim to be called and shrive the prisoner. The holy man, who had littleforeseen the catastrophe that his imprudence occasioned, fell on hisknees to the Prince, and adjured him in the most solemn manner not to

shed innocent blood. He accused himself in the bitterest terms for his in-discretion, endeavoured to disculpate the youth, and left no method un-tried to soften the tyrants rage. Manfred, more incensed than appeased

by Jeromes intercession, whose retraction now made him suspect he hadbeen imposed upon by both, commanded the Friar to do his duty, tellinghim he would not allow the prisoner many minutes for confession.

Nor do I ask many, my Lord, said the unhappy young man. Mysins, thank heaven, have not been numerous; nor exceed what might beexpected at my years. Dry your tears, good Father, and let us despatch.

This is a bad world; nor have I had cause to leave it with regret.Oh wretched youth! said Jerome; how canst thou bear the sight of

me with patience? I am thy murderer! it is I have brought this dismalhour upon thee!

I forgive thee from my soul, said the youth, as I hope heaven willpardon me. Hear my confession, Father; and give me thy blessing.

How can I prepare thee for thy passage as I ought? said Jerome.Thou canst not be saved without pardoning thy foes - and canst thouforgive that impious man there?

I can, said Theodore; I do.And does not this touch thee, cruel Prince? said the Friar.I sent for thee to confess him, said Manfred, sternly; not to plead

for him. Thou didst first incense me against him - his blood be upon thyhead!

It will! it will! said the good main, in an agony of sorrow. Thou andI must never hope to go where this blessed youth is going!

Despatch! said Manfred; I am no more to be moved by the whiningof priests than by the shrieks of women.

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What! said the youth; is it possible that my fate could have occa-sioned what I heard! Is the Princess then again in thy power?

Thou dost but remember me of my wrath, said Manfred. Preparethee, for this moment is thy last.

The youth, who felt his indignation rise, and who was touched withthe sorrow which he saw he had infused into all the spectators, as well asinto the Friar, suppressed his emotions, and putting off his doublet, andunbuttoning, his collar, knelt down to his prayers. As he stooped, hisshirt slipped down below his shoulder, and discovered the mark of a

bloody arrow.Gracious heaven! cried the holy man, starting; what do I see? It is

my child! my Theodore!The passions that ensued must be conceived; they cannot be painted.

The tears of the assistants were suspended by wonder, rather thanstopped by joy. They seemed to inquire in the eyes of their Lord whatthey ought to feel. Surprise, doubt, tenderness, respect, succeeded eachother in the countenance of the youth. He received with modest submis-sion the effusion of the old mans tears and embraces. Yet afraid of giv-ing a loose to hope, and suspecting from what had passed the inflexibil-ity of Manfreds temper, he cast a glance towards the Prince, as if to say,canst thou be unmoved at such a scene as this?

Manfreds heart was capable of being touched. He forgot his anger in

his astonishment; yet his pride forbad his owning himself affected. Heeven doubted whether this discovery was not a contrivance of the Friarto save the youth.

What may this mean? said he. How can he be thy son? Is it consist-ent with thy profession or reputed sanctity to avow a peasants offspringfor the fruit of thy irregular amours!

Oh, God! said the holy man, dost thou question his being mine?Could I feel the anguish I do if I were not his father? Spare him! goodPrince! spare him! and revile me as thou pleasest.

Spare him! spare him! cried the attendants; for this good manssake!

Peace! said Manfred, sternly. I must know more ere I am disposedto pardon. A Saints bastard may be no saint himself.

Injurious Lord! said Theodore, add not insult to cruelty. If I am thisvenerable mans son, though no Prince, as thou art, know the blood thatflows in my veins -

Yes, said the Friar, interrupting him, his blood is noble; nor is hethat abject thing, my Lord, you speak him. He is my lawful son, and

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Sicily can boast of few houses more ancient than that of Falconara. Butalas! my Lord, what is blood! what is nobility! We are all reptiles, miser-able, sinful creatures. It is piety alone that can distinguish us from thedust whence we sprung, and whither we must return.

Truce to your sermon, said Manfred; you forget you are no longerFriar Jerome, but the Count of Falconara. Let me know your history; youwill have time to moralise hereafter, if you should not happen to obtainthe grace of that sturdy criminal there.

Mother of God! said the Friar, is it possible my Lord can refuse afather the life of his only, his long-lost, child! Trample me, my Lord,scorn, afflict me, accept my life for his, but spare my son!

Thou canst feel, then, said Manfred, what it is to lose an only son!A little hour ago thou didst preach up resignation to me: my house, if

fate so pleased, must perish - but the Count of Falconara - Alas! my Lord, said Jerome, I confess I have offended; but aggrav-

ate not an old mans sufferings! I boast not of my family, nor think ofsuch vanities - it is nature, that pleads for this boy; it is the memory ofthe dear woman that bore him. Is she, Theodore, is she dead?

Her soul

horace walpole the castle of otranto

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